NYPD Red

Chapter 68

“It’s amazing how easy it is to buy one of these stun batons,” Gabriel said as he pulled Spence’s body across the threshold. “Only fifty bucks on the Internet. The real pain in the ass was getting it delivered. Can you believe that Tasers and stuns are legal in forty-four states, but they can’t be shipped to goddamn New York? Or Jersey.”

He kicked the front door shut and dragged Spence into the living room.

“But you got to love these companies that sell shit like this on the Web. Right there on their site, in big red type, it says, ‘Do you live in a prohibited delivery zone? Don’t worry. Give us an alternate shipping address from any legal area and we can still ship it for you!’ So I drive to Connecticut, where they’re allowed, except that they’re restricted to in-home use. But I figure I’m legal because I’m only zapping you here in your home.” Gabriel laughed.

“Anyway, I rent a box at the UPS Store in Stamford, drive back a week later, and there it is waiting for me. ‘Discreetly packaged,’ as promised. Like I said, it was a pain in the ass, but it’s all part of preproduction.”

He lowered Spence’s head and shoulders to the floor, got a sturdy chair from the dining room table, and centered it ten feet from the front door.

“Now, I know you can’t talk yet, but you can hear me. I need you up in this chair. I’ll do most of the heavy lifting, but you got to help. Otherwise, zap, zap, zap. It’s an amazing little piece of business, this baton. Twenty-four of the twenty-eight reviews on the website gave it five stars. You can see why.”

Gabriel planted his hands under Spence’s armpits, grunted hard, and lifted him into the chair.

“Funny you should be naked,” he said. “It wasn’t in the script, but I like it. Makes you more vulnerable on camera. And the movie’s already rated R, so a little nudity doesn’t change anything.”

It took ten minutes for Spence to come to. By that time, his ankles and calves were duct-taped to the legs of the chair, and there was more tape wrapped around his torso, trapping his arms and hands behind him. A third swath of duct tape covered his mouth. He opened his eyes and saw Gabriel hovering in front of him.

“Well, good morning, Sleeping Beauty. Your prince has been waiting.”

He rested the tip of the stun baton on the chair between Spence’s open legs. “I’m taking the tape off your mouth,” he said. “If you yell, your voice will go up about twelve octaves.”

Spence nodded, then winced as Gabe yanked hard to remove the tape. “Who are you?” he whispered.

“I’m The Chameleon,” Gabriel said.

Spence stared at him in disbelief. “I don’t…I don’t understand. That’s the name of my new show. The Chameleon is my new character.”

“The one you stole from me,” Gabriel said. “I submitted that idea to you two years ago. I’m The Chameleon.”

The man was insane, and Spence shook his head, trying to process the information. “Okay,” he said. “You’re The Chameleon. I’m screening a pilot tonight. The central character is a private detective-a master of disguise. He’s also called The Chameleon. It’s a coincidence. I never stole-”

“I don’t care if you changed him to a detective or a bus driver or an astronaut,” Gabriel said, the anger raising his voice. “It’s still my idea. I sent it to you. I trusted you.”

“I believe you,” Spence said. “The thing is, people send me ideas every day, but I can’t read them. Most TV producers never read unsolicited pitches unless they come from an agent we work with.”

“Most TV producers lie through their teeth,” Gabriel said.

“I swear I’m telling you the truth,” Spence said. “The Chameleon is an idea that I had four years ago. I’ve been developing it ever since, and I finally-what are you doing?”

The Chameleon reached into his backpack. “Look what we have here,” he said. “And you thought the cattle prod was bad? This little movie of mine is just full of surprises, isn’t it?”

Spence screamed. “Help! Somebody! Help!”

Gabriel’s fist connected with Spence’s nose, and the screams were replaced by the sound of cartilage crunching and snapping. He pulled Spence’s head back and violently wrapped the duct tape around his mouth three times.

“You not only took my idea,” Gabriel said, holding up the object of Spence’s terror. “You took my life. And now, guess what, pretty boy? It’s payback time.”